Long Time, No See
by bookworm0307
Summary: The year is 1914. Merlin has been alive a long time and can hardly remember the days of his youth. What he does know is that England is in great need, and some of its ancient heroes may be about to return.
1. Prologue

**Long Time, No See**

**Chapter 1**

Merlin had long ago forgotten the years of his youth. The faces and names of those he had once loved were lost in the passing of the centuries. He searched his memories and found only the tedium and pain of immortality. Everyone dies in the end, Merlin had learnt, everyone except him.

He was a sorcerer, he knew that much. And he suspected that he had been alive around 1500 years, but he wasn't sure. There had been a castle, swords, armour, horses and the smell of the forest after rain.

He couldn't really remember anything before the 1200s.

The 1300s were bloody awful.

The 1400s weren't much better.

The 1600s started to get interesting.

By the 1800s, it seemed as though the human race were starting to get the hang of things.

But earlier on in the year, which was 1914, things had gone downhill again.

Merlin couldn't help thinking that England could do with some help.

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**Please review if you're interested in reading, and I'll update soon.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Long Time, No See**

**Chapter 1**

"Well, Doctor, what do you say?" The nurse asked. Grace, her name was. Sweet girl, kind girl. They got on well, Merlin and her. Of course, he had had to take different names over the years; there were too many legends surrounding the name Merlin. For the 20th century, he had chosen the name name William, it seemed to hold memories for him, and he suspected that he had once known someone of that name, before his face faded into the past. William Dorne. That was the name that Grace knew him by.

Merlin passed his hands over the young man's body, casting a subtle spell to clean the wound and prevent infection. Nothing that would arouse suspicion.

"He'll live. Get that Henry bloke out of here, Grace, he's crowding up the ward."

"Yes, Doctor. What about the Parsley girl?"

"Tell her mother to go home and get some sleep. We'll send for her if her daughter's condition changes over night. But tell her that Jane is likely to make a good recovery."

"She's dying, Doctor. She won't last the night," Grace whispered.

"Don't doubt by abilities, Grace. The girl will be fine." The nurse nodded her head, tucking a spiral of black hair behind her ear, and hurrying off to persuade Henry that he would do better off going home and getting some rest.

Grace seemed a little distracted, but Merlin supposed that it was understandable. Her brother, Elliott, had left for the front two days previously. He had never even left his home town before he signed up.

The day passed like all the others. A blur of sickness, injury and death.

But it could be worse, Merlin thought, remembering the magical disease which had attacked Camelot's water supply...

Where the hell did that come from?

That had happened a _long _time ago, in the days he thought he had forgotten.

Wierd.

He quickly collected himself, mixing a magical remedy in a pot and casting a quick charm to complete it.

"What's that, Doctor?" Grace asked, and Merlin jumped, not realising that she was there.

"A herbal remedy. Very effective. The only thing that can save Jane's life. So stop bothering me with your questions and let me do my job," He muttered angrily, pushing passed her to the child's bed. Grace looked hurt for a moment, but smiled when Merlin shot her a sly wink.

He supported the little girl's head whilst he tipped the life saving medicine into her mouth, muttering a spell to slow its effects slightly. No need for people to think that he was any more than an exceptional Doctor.

"Where did you learn that? Will it work?"

"Gaius taught me, so of course it'll work."

"Who's Gaius?"

Merlin froze. Who _was _Gaius? He had just said it without thinking, it had jumped to his lips automatically.

"Someone I used to work with. I think. He might have been an uncle though, or my father. It was an awfully long time ago."

"You do say the strangest things, Doctor."

"I am a very strange person. And what did I say about asking bothersome questions?"

"Not to."

"Exactly. Now, back to work."

_Blood. War. Destruction. Death. _

_Soldiers are slaughtered on the battlefield each day. _

_Victory at this point is quickly dissapearing towards the horizon, fading along with the country's hope that it would all be over by Christmas. _

_Albion is in need. _

Merlin summoned a flame to warm his hands as he stomped home through the snow covered streets of London. His joints ached in the cold, and from standing all day. But Merlin was used to that and didn't let it bother him.

He had been a Doctor for as long as he remembered, and a physician before that. Wherever he went, he used his skills to cure the sick, but after that incident in 1612, he had been careful to be subtle with his cures.

Recently though, he had had to present qualifications when he started working somewhere. It hadn't been much of a problem to him, but it was bothersome nonetheless. And he had to keep moving around. He had looked like an eighty year old for the majority of his life, and after a while people started to wonder why he wasn't dead.

Sometimes he wished he would just die.

"Doctor Dorne?" Merlin turned to see the face of his colleague, Doctor Thomas Smith. A man in his early fifties, Thomas was a clever man, and a good doctor, with a wife and three adolescent children. Merlin couldn't remember their names.

"Thomas. Bloody cold, isn't it?"

"You can say that again," They walked in silence for a few minutes before Thomas spoke again, "My sons want to sign up for the war. I tell them that it'll be over in a few months, but I'm not sure whether I believe it any more. I just... Mary and I have always tried to do what's best for them, and let them make their own decisions. But even if this is their own decision, I'm not sure that it's really what's best for them."

"I understand, Thomas. But, you know, I used to have a friend that frequently risked everything to fight for the people he loved. I mean, he was an arrogant prick who probably also did it for pride and glory, but he made sacrifices nonetheless. And maybe your boys need to decide why they want to fight, because I've seen plenty of wars in my time, and the men with someone to fight for usually tend to come home in the end. They're the ones with something to come home to, after all. And they need to carve their own paths, or they might just end up blaming you for not letting them live their lives."

"I suppose you're right, William," said Thomas, "What happened to your friend?"

"My friend?" Merlin paused, trying to remember the details of the man he had been thinking of. He was sure that had died, but didn't want to worry his colleague with a tragic story of a soldier's death. "He moved away. I haven't seen him in a long time."

They nodded to each other as they turned down different streets. Merlin unlocked the door to his small home, full of books and memories of his long life. A painting hung on the wall, the work of a talented young artist a few centuries back, who had painted Merlin's portrait in return for a room in his house for a few nights. A signed copy of 'Great Expectations' lay on his desk and a 12th century tapestry was thrown over the sofa. He absentmindedly lit the fire with a flick of his eyes, sitting down to read his first edition Charles Dickens book for the hundredth time.

Some time before he drifted off to sleep in the early hours of the morning, he remembered his friend's name.

Arthur.

"Condescending dollop head," Merlin muttered as his eyelids flickered shut, "Whatever happened to you my friend?" But he couldn't remember, and wasn't sure that he wanted to.

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**Obviously, I own none of theses characters. **

**Keep reviewing for more chapters!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Long Time, No See**

**Chapter 2**

_Six months later _

Sally Smith was cycling home to the cottage where she lived with her family, her husband, two young children and her elderly mother, when she saw him, washed up on the shores of the lake.

He was a young man, probably in his twenties, with blond hair, wet and dirty from the lake water. White shirt and trousers. Bare foot.

Sally walked her bike to the side of the road and hurried over, pulling her scarf around her against the strong breeze.

"You alright there, young man?" She said, shaking his shoulder to wake him up. He groaned and opened his eyes, which were a pale blue. "Bit of a rough night, eh?" Pushing himself into a sitting position, he gasped and rubbed his temples, furrowing his eyebrows. "Yes, well maybe you'll think about what you choose to do on a Friday night, next time. There's a war on you know."

"I... Erm..." He cleared his throat, "I don't... I don't remember... A war? What war? Where am I?" Who am I? He added inside his head.

"Wow, you really did have a fun night, didn't you?" She gripped his arm to support him as he tried to stand, "What's your name then, son?"

"Give me a moment. No, I have no idea. Sorry."

"Not a problem, young man, I'm quite used to my Paul coming home a bit disorientated after a night out with his mates. Course, he's become a bit more responsible since I had the twins, thank goodness. But, all the same, I ain't a stranger to a man with a rough hang over." She smiled and stepped away, but he swayed and she grabbed his shoulder, "Careful now. My house is just a few minutes down the road, why don't you come back with me? You look like you could do with a cup of tea."

"Thank you. That's very kind." He was supposed to be meeting his friend there. It was sort of branded into his brain. His friend was supposed to be there. _But where was he?_

"Decided to take a swim last night, did you?" She asked, her hand tightly gripping his arm to keep him upright.

"Yeah. I guess I thought it would be fun."

"That was a bit stupid. Not to mention the danger you were putting yourself in. You could have drowned for God's sake! Goodness, I hope my boys grow up to be a bit more responsible than you! But Samuel's a smart lad, I'm sure he wouldn't be the sort to jump in the lake, just for a but of fun. He knows how dangerous it can be." Sally sighed and shook her head sadly.

"Well, to be honest, I don't really imagine that I was thinking straight. Samuel's your son?"

"Yes, him and his brother have just turned seven," The young man gasped in pain as he gripped his stomach. He hissed, trying to disguise the obvious agony he was in. When he brought his hand away, it was stained with blood.

* * *

_Hands rough from scrubbing floors and mending clothes. A servant's hands. She smoothed down her skirt and blew out the candle, sighing as the darkness of night filled the bedroom. Quietly, the servant hurried out into the stone corridor, closing the door gently to avoid waking her mistress. She stifled a yawn, tucking a spiral of hair behind her ear._

_Outside, the night was dark and cold. The stars were tiny pinpricks of light, in the blanket of black. _

_Inside the castle, a blue eyed Prince made a wish, as he watched the servant girl walk home. _

Grace woke with a start. The dream had been so vivid, so real, that she had to sit for a moment whilst she found her bearings. Pushing open the window, she breathed in the cool May air as it ran its fingers through her black hair, and ruffled the scratchy material of her blue nightie. Wherever Elliot was, she wondered whether he was looking up a the same sky, the same stars, feeling the same breeze on his face.

She hoped so.

He had always wanted to travel beyond the small town where they grew up. And although she supposed that he had been granted his wish, Grace couldn't help wondering the price he would have to pay.

No. She couldn't afford to think like that.

In the distance, a light was growing on the horizon, and the sun was beginning to rise over the city of London. She smiled slightly, her dream already fading away. Dreams weren't something to get hung up over, anyway. It was just a dream. Just a dream. It would still be a while before she needed to get dressed, so she found her sketchbook and a pencil, absentmindedly sketching by the window.

Half an hour later, a pale skinned, dark haired boy stared up at her from the paper, his eyes glowing with an unnatural light. Sighing, Grace tossed the pad onto her bed. Her father told her that she just had an active imagination, but she didn't really. All the same, her sketch pad was filled with drawings of faces she didn't know, smiling about a joke she didn't remember and wearing clothes from another time.

She probably just read too many books.

* * *

"Do you need a Doctor, son?" Sally asked, concerned, as she lay the man down on her bed. She was a naturally kind person, who had developed a caring nature since she had become a mother, and couldn't bare to see anyone in pain or distress if there was someway that she could help them.

"Just send for your court physician," He said with a grin, "I have a feeling that I'm going to need him, Sally."

"I'll send for the Doctor," Sally chuckled, then frowned, "Do you really have no idea who you are?"

"No, I don't remember a thing. Not a thing. Not even my own name." He gritted his teeth as a new wave of pain shot through his body. Sally had wound a torn sheet around his torso, and it was soon stained with the young man's blood. She was curious enough to wonder what had happened to him, but not rude enough to ask.

"Mommy, who's that?" A boy with hair as orange and frizzy as his mother's stood in the doorway.

"James! This young man is very sick. Could you and your brother run into the village and find the doctor? He needs to come quickly." James nodded, grinning, and ran downstairs to find Samuel. Sally turned to speak reassuringly to the man lying on her bed, but he had fallen unconscious.

She prayed that her sons would run quickly.

* * *

"Good morning, Nurse, how nice of you to join us."

"Sorry, Doctor, my bus was late."

"Well, get to work," Merlin sighed exaggeratedly.

"Yes, Doctor." Grace stole a glance at the old man out of the corner of her eye. Yes, that was where she had gotten the inspiration for her drawing. The shape of his eyes, the shadow of a young man's face beneath the wrinkles. She shook her head. He was exasperated enough as it was.

"Morning, Grace!"

"Morning, Charlotte. Any word from your Henry?" Grace asked as she tied up her hair, pulling an apron around her waist. Charlotte tied it up for her as she spoke.

"I got a letter from him this morning, actually. He says it's getting frightfully warm out in France, but that it's a relief to be dry again, no matter how hot it's getting. He says that we'll get married as soon as he gets back, and we'll be a proper family. We could move into the countryside, grow vegetables, raise children... Actually he wrote more about the future that we might have than his life at the moment. He must be having a pretty rotten time, I reckon. There," She said, patting Grace on the shoulder, "Have you heard from your brother?" Grace shrugged nonchalantly, and the two girls shared an understanding smile before hurrying onto the ward.

"How are you this morning, Mrs Miles?"

"Ah, Nurse, I'm gasping for a cup of tea. Would you be a dear and get me one?"

"I'll see what I can do," Grace smiled, pouring a glass of water when the elderly woman stifled a moan of pain. Her body's organs were failing her in old age, and all they could really do was keep her comfortable.

_The moans of the injured and dying. The scent of blood mingled with the sounds of pain. Outside, the smell of burning. The blue eyed Prince was watching her again. _

"You have that look in your eye, Nurse, the look of a young girl in love."

"I don't think so, Mrs Miles," Whispered Grace. A deep sorrow had settled in her stomach, and it took a moment for her to clear her head and shake the inexplainable grief from her heart.

Those dreams were really starting to mess with her head.

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**Reviews are always loved, so please just take the time to tell me what you think, or suggest a way for the story to develop**.


	4. Chapter 3

**Sorry this chapter's a bit delayed, hope that you enjoy. Reviews are always appreciated. **

**Long time, no see**

**Chapter 3**

"Did you sleep well?" George asked, even though he cold tell that his daughter had had another sleepless night. Shadows lay under her blood shot eyes, and she yawned loudly as she set his breakfast down.

"I had another dream. A nightmare."

"I thought that they were usually good dreams."

"Not this one." Grace avoided her father's gaze, shoveling porridge into her mouth, aware that she was due at work in half an hour.

"What happened?"

"Sorry?"

"What happened in the dream?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Grace," George said softly, "Was it about Elliott?"

"No, father. Look, it doesn't matter, it was just a dream. Anyway, I have to get to work." She took piled the bowls together and took them to the sink to wash up.

"Don't worry about those, I'll clean up. You should get to work." She smiled gratefully, kissing her father on the cheek and hurrying out of the house.

It was early in the morning, but the spun was shining and the sky cloudless over the waking city. Grace walked quickly to try and chase the dream for her mind, focusing on the day ahead, focusing on getting to the hospital and doing the job that she loved. It was a simple life, uncomplicated by ambition, or poverty, fear, famine, disease, neither was romance a particular distraction. All she had was her job, and the few friends that she had there. And that was all that she would ever need.

But in her dreams, there was so much more.

Except that there wasn't, not really. But sometimes, when she woke up late at night, she felt like she had been running, that outside was a world that was filled with all things wonderful and amazing, and so terrifying and dangerous. And always there were the same faces, hidden in shadow. The dark haired lady that hid her hate behind a beautiful smile, who was sometimes her best friend, but often an enemy. Another friend, a boy with black hair and pale skin.

And the blonde prince.

Grace shook her head. They were dreams, nothing more. The people in them were just figments of an over active imagination.

So why did she long for their smiles?

The city was quiet,with just a few early risers heading to jobs. The local milkman waved as he passed, the postman shot her a friendly smile, which she returned. The world was steadily turning, whilst she was in turmoil on the inside.

Grace had awoken in the small hours of the morning, as she always did, her body fuming with anger and hate, tears falling down her face uncontrollably. And when she heard her father's voice, it was all she could do to stop herself wrapping her arms around him in happiness.

She couldn't help thinking that she should talk to someone, but who? Anyone that she did talk to would just think that she was mad, or over reacting, or both. How could she explain that the visions she saw in her sleep were as real as those in saw with her waking eyes, "Well, I'm sure they do feel like that at the time," they would say, or "Dreams can be very realistic, particularly the frightening ones." Grace had never been able to handle people laughing at her, it just made her feel so small and insignificant.

She thought of her brother, so far away and in so much danger. Grace no longer had any illusions about what could happen to him, after all, more and more people were discovering that they had lot their loved ones in a war that nobody really understood. So much had changed since Elliott had left. Grace and her father had moved in with his sister, in her small, London house, after their's had burnt down in a fire that wiped out half the street. George had written to his son to tell him of the changes, should he ever come home.

As usual, the ward was filled with the sick and dying, doctors and nurses that had been working the night shift leaving to go home, others arriving and changing into more suitable clothing. Grace noted that Mrs Miles was no longer in her bed, her stomach sinking with momentary shock. _One, two, three, _she counted in her head, giving her time to move on to new patients and responsibilities. All morning, she stayed focused on her job and didn't let her mind drift to her won problems. Consult the patient, ask a doctor, fetch the medicine, treat the sick. A few kind words here and there, a friendly smile, a comforting hand on a shoulder, not letting her mind succumb to the dreams that had begun to plague even her waking hours.

It was the same every day. She worked hard, long hours and walked home in the early hours of the morning or late at night, ate a quick meal and tried to get a few hours sleep. The next day was always the same. Grace din't mind of course, it was up to her and her father to provide enough money to help pay for food, seeing as her aunt was too sick to work. And Elliott was away from home, so far away. Her ally, her brother, the one person that she had always been able to rely on, and she might never see him again...

_No, _she couldn't think like that. Giving into the possibility that he was gone forever was going to destroy her, eat away at her already crippled heart.

At the other side of the ward, Doctor Dorne spoke quietly to a patient whilst taking his pulse and recording some notes in the file resting on his arm. He looked up and winked at her, but instead she saw a young man, his face dripping with rotten vegetables, smiling and reaching out his hand, with difficulty, to shake her's, _"I'm Merlin." _

What happened next was difficult for Grace to understand, and years later, when she tried to explain it, she could never find the words. It was as though everything else seemed to fade away and all that she saw was William Dorne, the old man, the doctor. But he was also Merlin, the young man locked in the stocks with vegetables in his hair. And she felt as though he was right in front of her, that she could just reach out and touch him, but also that he was so far away, and that he was fading and she was going to lose him. The world spun around her and she backed up against the wall, breathing heavily, as the ward returned to focus.

Her legs were trembling and she slid down the wall to collapse on the floor. Grace was vaguely aware of everyone rushing around her, asking if she was okay, but she was seeing a thousand other things at once. A thousand laughs and screams and tears, a thousand secret glances and the brief brushing of hands, stolen kisses in private places and hands clasped in grief, she felt the age of castles and knights swarming around her and the summer haze of a forbidden courtship. The only thing that seemed real was the old Doctor, whose eyes never left her's.

"Grace?" He said, taking her arm, "Are you alright?"

"Merlin," Grace whispered, "Oh God, I've missed you," And she folded her arms around him, feeling not the brittle form of old age but the strength of youth in his bones.


	5. Chapter 4

**Long Time, No See**

**Chapter 4 **

"Merlin, wait!"

"Grace, we have to hurry!"

"I don't understand!" She caught his coat arm roughly, forcing him to come to a stop on the busy street. He sighed heavily, pulling her aside into a darker, quieter side street, which passers by tended to ignore unless they had specific buisness with the residents of the closely packed houses built practically on top of each other perhaps in the hopes of saving space, but with the result of creating a most unsavoury street.

"What's happening to me? I thought..."

"I know," He placed his hands on her shoulders trying to calm her with his gaze, "But we can't talk here. We need to get back to my house, there we can work out what exactly is going on. Just trust me, we're friends, and a part of your soul remembers a life where you would have trusted me with not only your life, but the lives of those you held dearest."

"But what's going on? Why can't you explain it here?" Merlin could sense her emotions a little if he concentrated, it was a particular skill that he was working on, but was somewhat reluctant to fully develop. The girl was afraid, he could see it in her eyes as well, but he could also feel a strange, what was it? Almost a sort of elation, a raw joy. He tried to focus on that, instead of the pain and fear ripping through his body.

"If your soul is remembering, then there are probably beings which can sense it," She looked puzzled, and he fought for breath, "Magic, you probably remember how much there was in the ancient times, well it gives off an energy. I've had a lot of free time over the centuries..." He hissed as another wave of pain jolted his bones, "And I've figured out a way to, erm, track it, follow the source. But I'm not the only one. Now, I've worked out ways to sort of cover my tracks, but right now its like there's an explosion going on in terms of magical energy, and all sorts of people are going to swarm towards it like moths to a flame, which isn't good. Now, we need to get to my house, I've got some protection there, and we can work out what to do."

"How far is it?"

"Half a mile or so."

"Okay," He could tell that Grace was trying to steady her breathing, trying not to be afraid, "Are you alright Merlin?"

"Yes," He lied, "I'm fine." The pair turned back to the path, but found their way blocked by four cloaked figures. Merlin swore under his breath, pushing Grace behind him and standing up straight, trying to ignore what felt like fire burning in his veigns.

_"Emrys."_

"Gentlemen? What can I do for you?"

_"Do you have it?"_

"Do I have what? Gentlemen, I assure you that my friend and I," He stifled a hiss of pain, "Carry nothing of any value on our person. I have an umbrella, if that's what you're after. Though I doubt we're going to have much rain this evening." Merlin knew it was a long shot, but he had had dealings with the _Sylon _before, and found that distraction was a good enough weapon as any.

_"Give it to us, and we will go in peace."_

"There seems to have been a misunderstanding. I will offer you a warning, a chance to leave us, or you will have to suffer my wrath."

"Your wrath?" Grace muttered dubiously.

"Yes my dear," He turned his attention back to the cloaked _Sylon,_ feeling the familiar comfort of magic at the tips of his fingers and in the back of his mind, using the fire in his bones to give him strength instead of weakness, "That's close enough."

_"Give it to us."_

"This is my final warning." In any other situation, Merlin would have spent more time trying to work out what it was the _Sylon _wanted, in fact his curiosity was barely under control, but he also knew that doing so would be putting Grace in more danger than she was already in, and had no desire to do that. Besides, he presumed that he would find out soon enough what it was that he was supposed to have, as it seemed to be very important. He still had allies in what was left of the magical community, and he would contact them once he got home. For a moment, his vision was blinded by white light, and when his sight was restored, the _Sylon _were stood less than a metre in front of him. They were powerful, and he had made the mistake of underestimating them before, but he was fairly confident that he could defeat them easily enough.

The _Sylon _flew backwards through the air, giving him a moment to bring the necessary spells to the front of his mind. Merlin gently prised Grace's fingers from his arm, and strode towards the tallest of the figures, the one that had spoken to him. Already, a pale mist was beginning to cover the ground around where he stood. Shouting to Grace not to breathe it in, he began chanting under his breath, words that escaped his lips with little effort to try and remember them. The _Sylon _were struggling to their feet, gnarled hands crackling with white energy and Merlin raised his hands to finish them off, but a bright light obscured his vision and he crumpled to the ground. As I tried to stand, he was distantly aware of blue flash, accompanied by a loud crash that sounded like someone had knocked over a house.

Darkness fell over him and there was only the burning of fire in his head.

* * *

"Merlin?" Grace tried to say, but it came out more like a terrified squeak. She shouted for him, a growing fear tightening her stomach, and spotted him lying on the ground in the shadows. Touching the pendant around her neck, Grace fought to remember the last few moments. There had been a bright light, and her necklace had burned her skin like flames, leaving a star shaped scald on her chest. The hooded figures had disappeared, perhaps become dust, or maybe the whole night had been a figment of her imagination.

But no matter how unlikely it seemed, Grace knew that her mind had not deceived her. There were memories in her mind like water, and in it she could see the reflection of another life, with other friends and different wars, yet as soon as she reached out to touch it, the images scattered.

"Do not fear." She spun around at the sound of the woman's voice, her eyes fixing on the figure crouched on the floor beside Merlin.

"Who are you?"

"A friend." The woman said, without looking up.

"I don't know you."

"That's because," She said, flicking her dark eyes towards Grace's face, "I'm Merlin's friend. Not yours," Passing her hand over Merlin's brow, she shook her head slowly, "Give me your hand Grace. We need to get out of here." In the shadows, Grace couldn't see the detail on the other woman's face, but there was a commanding note to her quiet voice that was difficult to disobey and Grace stepped forwards, reaching out her hand, "Thank you," The woman took Grace's hand in her, placing the other on Merlin's arm, "Now please try not to pass out." And the world faded away, and for a few moments there was only darkness.

Then, in the distance, there was a dim light like the flame of a candle. It grew and grew until it was all around them, burning in front of Grace's eyes. She saw shadows moving through the fire, but couldn't make out their shape. After an indescribable amount of time, the light faded, and they were stood room, decorated by a few chairs, piles of books, some old artwork.

Grace stumbled backwards, dizzy, and the woman led her to a chair. Merlin sat on the floor, and opened his eyes slowly.

"Impeccable timing, Elsa," He muttered, standing up as though it caused him great pain.

"I do my best. Now what exactly is gong on, Merlin? Who is this girl? Why are you being hunted?"

"One question at a time please," Merlin said quietly, "But something big is going on. Bigger than this war. And Grace is caught up in the middle of it."

Grace, still fighting off nausea, tried to follow the conversation, but none of it seemed real.

"Do you have theories?" Elsa asked.

"I always have theories." He moved over to a chair, sitting down and closing his eyes.

"Merlin?" Grace said, standing up, "Are you okay? Are you injured?"

"Don't worry about me. What about you?"

"Fine, I'll be fine." She'd said that so many times before, _"Will you be okay? We're all worried about you." "I'll be fine." Even years after it happened, they would see her, standing lonely by the window, and ask her how she was. She would always tell them that she was fine, and sometimes they believed her. But she was never fine, not ever again. Not even when, a month or so after she lost him, she discovered that she was carrying his child. Even then she could not be truly happy. _"I'm fine Merlin."

He wasn't listening anymore. His knuckles were white from gripping the armrests too hard, and his face was scrunched up with pain. grace hurried over to him, placing her hand on his arm.

"We can't stay here long," Elsa said, "Merlin has protections up around his home, but it's not enough. If the _Sylon _are after the two of you, then there'll be others too. You need to get to the bottom of it, Merlin. Merlin?"

* * *

The pain was all through his body now, as though there were a thousand knives being driven into his flesh. Something twisted inside his heart, cutting him from the inside out. An image of a burning boat flashed before his eyes, and the sensation of holding someone in his arms. Grief and pain rushed through his blood, the longing for everything he had lost so long ago. He couldn't stop himself screaming anymore, from the very foundations of his soul.

And then, as suddenly as the pain started, it stopped. He saw, as though it were before him, a young man lying in an unfamiliar bed. He was wounded, and unconscious, but alive, so very alive. In his sleep, he dreamed of an ancient city, and without knowing, his lips mouthed the names of a long forgotten friend.

Merlin's eyes flashed open.

"He's back."

* * *

**I am so sorry it took me so long to upload. I just completely ran out of inspiration. Please forgive me.**


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